


Chromophobia, Seeping. Consuming. Infecting.

by ImpulsivelyBlue



Series: Phobia [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Pack you're bags we're going on a feels trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:25:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1648568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpulsivelyBlue/pseuds/ImpulsivelyBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>green  (grēn)<br/>The hue of that portion of the visible spectrum lying between yellow and blue, evoked in the human observer by radiant energy with wavelengths of approximately 490 to 570 nanometers; any of a group of colors that may vary in lightness and saturation and whose hue is that of the emerald or somewhat less yellow than that of growing grass; one of the additive or light primaries; one of the psychological primary hues.</p><p>Chromophobia, the fear of colors. Some people will react to certain shades and tones, and others will prefer to surround themselves with an environment as free of colors as possible. Colour fear, colour phobia, fear of colours, phobia of colours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chromophobia, Seeping. Consuming. Infecting.

\---

Phobia, a pathological fear. 

green (grēn)  
The hue of that portion of the visible spectrum lying between yellow and blue, evoked in the human observer by radiant energy with wavelengths of approximately 490 to 570 nanometers; any of a group of colors that may vary in lightness and saturation and whose hue is that of the emerald or somewhat less yellow than that of growing grass; one of the additive or light primaries; one of the psychological primary hues.

Chromophobia, the fear of colors. Some people will react to certain shades and tones, and others will prefer to surround themselves with an environment as free of colors as possible. Colour fear, colour phobia, fear of colours, phobia of colours. 

\--- 

Jason hates days like this, he really does. 

It's the moment of cloudy and distorted grey static before a blinding burst of vicious colour and deafening sound that hit him, like a crowbar in an empty warehouse or the heat of an explosion he's scared to admit to remembering burnt at his skin.

A wave of hot burning painful memories wash over him making him want to crawl out of his skin, skin that feels like its on fire when the wrong, wrong, wrong not Robin green that now pollutes and erodes at his body, his life, his mind, burns and howls and builds up in to pure unrestrained rage. 

After the moment, minute, hour, days of the burning wrong, wrong, wrong colour, new life green leaves him to hover at the edge of his consciousness. This is the time when the green almost ends, draining away with his rage. The energy leaves his body, shoulders slump down in defeat as the memories cry out from the edge of his thoughts and start over again and again and again. 

(-shoulders slumped down in acceptance and grief and defeat and a thousand other emotions he doesn't want to deal with right now, curling in on himself like that could numb the pain of he didn't make it and was he even looking-)

He crawls in to his bed forgetting the too dark to be Robin red of his uniform and the sticky slide of the blood between his fingers, laying back and trying to count down, to fall in to sleep as he so desperately counts, but Jason cant escape the echo of the counting of the memory in his head. 

(-counting down. Five. Four. Three. He closes his eyes and sighs silently in sadness, anger, fear and panic. One. Hot, hot, hot, burning heat, skin crawling and his ears ringing as the world crashes down and burns around him.)

Jason always wakes with a scream, pained and terrified beyond anything he though he ever knew. His heart pounds unforgivingly against his ribs reminding him how human, how alive he actually is now and how much that hurt, surrounded by the green, green, green of mad man echoed in a nightmares hair and a pits cackle as it begins it's work. 

Seeping. 

Consuming. 

Infecting. 

Turning his vision and his anger towards a pointless purpose. 

Sometimes the nightmare would leave as quickly as it had come but other times it would linger for days, never stopping and ever present, a process repeated over and over and over, again and again and again. 

Yes, Jason hated days like this. 

\---


End file.
